HSS: The Harry & Draco Tales
by perfectsmuttyvampire
Summary: Previously entitled Kiss This B****. A Gryffindor in the Slytherin showers? What on earth has happened here?


_**TITLE: Kiss This, Bitch**_

_**SUMMARY: A Gryffindor in the Slytherin showers after a Quidditch match leads to an unexpected result…**_

_**PAIRING: Draco/Harry**_

_**WARNING: Anger/agitation sex. The best lemon!**_

_**THESE CHARACTERS ARE THE PROPERTY OF J.K. ROWLING. I OWN NOTHING, EXCEPT THE IDEA.**_

_**Although, I wouldn't mind owning Harry and Draco lol…**_

_**A/N: If there are any similarities with this story and anybody else fanfic, I didn't intend for that. I just wanted a Harry/Draco shower sex thing.**_

HPOV

I'm going to kill Filch!

I give the door of the Gryffindor Quidditch showers one last rattle. It doesn't open. It is well and truly locked. Stupid, evil, spiteful prick. I pick up my broom. No way am I risking the castle in this state. Filch would kill me. I take a look round. There's lights on in the Slytherin showers. Do I dare?

Yes, I decide, I certainly do. I'm filthy, I smell, and I NEED a shower. I'll walk into the den of snakes to get one. I can't stand being dirty. So I push open the door, and march boldly inside…to be met by only the sound of running water. I'm almost disappointed. I would have LOVED to see the faces on the Slytherin team when Harry Potter strolled inside, calm-as-you-please and started getting ready to shower. But I don't get my wish. There is somebody's kit hanging up, but it's fairly obvious there's nobody here apart from me and Mystery Boy. So I strip down, and send my kit to the Gryffindor changing rooms, so it'll get washed with the rest. My shower is running when I hear a sound other than water and my humming. I freeze. Was that a _moan_? I shut my water off, and stand there dripping. I listen carefully. And it comes again, through the sound of water and through the steam - a definite moan. My heart rate increases. I'm less than five feet from a wanking Slytherin. And then I nearly fall over in shock.

"Harry!" A groan, a cry and _my fucking name _as whoever it is starts losing control. "Jesus - POTTER!" That does it. If they're wanking over me, then I want to know who it is. I think I have a right.

I pull back the curtain and peep inside the cubicle cautiously. A slim back, shoulder relaxed, legs perfectly toned, THE nicest ass this side of wizardry and blond hair. Wait. Blond hair. Well, consider me buggered. Consider me regally flabbergasted.

_Draco god-damn Malfoy _has just tossed himself off in the shower over me. Well, I'll be…

I believe in seizing opportunity. I believe in this very firmly. So, I slip around the shower curtain, and I approach him silently. He's sponging himself down, and he looks ready to leave. Shame he isn't going to leave. I wait, silently, making sure I don't breathe on him and give the game away. He reaches out, towards the shower's off button and I grab his hand and bring it back towards his body.

"You aren't going anywhere."

DPOV

I just about have a heart attack when the hand grabs mine. I just about have another one when _that _voice, _his_ voice, whispers tantalisingly in my ear.

"You aren't going anywhere." I'd scream, except Malfoy's do not scream. Ever. And we certainly don't get trapped in the shower with a very naked, very wet Harry Potter.

"Malfoy's," I say, trying to coax volume into my throat, "do not get held hostage in showers, Potter. Let me go."

"You and I both know you don't mean that. And don't give me all that Pureblood bullshit."

"Potter," I say, trying to sound threatening, and failing, "Let me go, or I swear -"

"You'll do what, Draco?" he enquires wickedly, running the flat palm of his open hand up my side, ghosting over ribs and dancing lightly over one nipple before tracing my lips with a finger tip. "What'll you do, Draco? Let's not go all formal when we're like this."

"Potter, I mean it -" He sighs heavily, cutting me off. The hand that was teasing my lips leaves and he trails fingertips over my shoulder, down my spine, over my hip and across the V that leads down. And my body, the traitorous scum, likes this very much indeed. It responds happily. And he bloody knows it, chuckling lightly, and then kissing _that_ spot right behind my ear.

"You've got -" kiss "exactly" kiss "ten seconds" kiss "to tell me" kiss, this time right on my pulse "to go away" kisses "and mean it" kiss on my collar bone "Or I'll ravish you" kiss on my neck again "right here and now." He carries on kissing me, lavishing both sides of my neck with hot butterfly kisses that actually make me go weak at the knees. "And I should tell you I already heard you screaming my name."

So I count to twelve, and then I push away, and turn to face him.

"Kiss this, bitch."

And he snogs me with more passion than I have ever been kissed with, and I throw my arms around his neck and feel his erection rubbing along with mine, and I moan and he smiles and slips his tongue past my lips and ravages my mouth. He's almost brutal, he's controlling, he's hard and fast and I don't even try and fight him. His hands grip my hips and he hauls me close and grinds himself into me. When I moan his name, I know I've lost it, and I could give a flying fuck that I have just surrendered total control to him. I love it. And when his mouth leaves mine and kisses it's way down to my cock which is just begging for him, that mouth, those hands, I moan.

"Oh, Draco, moaning _already_? You haven't even _started_ feeling yet." I shudder at the deliciousness of his promise, the prospects it holds for me. And he licks me teasingly, from base to tip, taking the little drop of pre-cum on the tip of his tongue, and then diving, taking me into his mouth, sucking almost viciously, licking, teasing, a scrape of teeth, a hint of his stubble against my balls as he deep-throats and the hint of hot breath as he releases me and blows gently. He was right. I hadn't started feeling. And _Jesus,_ but I'm feeling now. He gets to his feet, smirking. He wraps his hand around my cock and pumps gently.

"Potter - Harry - please, I want - need - please." I don't care that I've lost my ability to talk.

"Tell me what you want, Draco," he murmurs, kissing my neck. He bites, hard enough to hurt, but it's blotted out by pleasure. He sucks on the bite, then kisses it. "Tell me."

"Want -you. You, want you to fuck me." And bless him, he does. He pushes me to my knees, and I get on all fours like an obedient little whore, not caring anymore what anybody would say if they could see me bottoming for Potter. When he slides into me, and when he hisses my name, and when he moves against me, fucking me, I scream. I scream his name, I swear and I beg. One hand grasps my hip, the other pumps me with agonizing slowness and he kisses my shoulders, my heck, my lips when I crane my head round. He feels so good, and from the mutters and curses I can make out, he;s pretty damn happy too.

"Harry…I - I - I'm going -" And he whispers through gritted teeth, and it's the hottest thing I've ever heard.

"Come for me Dray - come for me, please." It's that please that does it. A plaintive plea, and I give out beneath his touch. He swears, gasps, curses, and my name comes from his throat as a strangled half-cry, half-sob.

He washes us both down, dresses me, dresses himself, and he carries me up to his bed. He puts me between clean sheets, and his arms go around me, and he fits his body to mine, and we sleep like that, curled around each other. I don't give a shit what happens tomorrow, or beyond that.

He takes me to breakfast, and he sits me with him, his arms very firmly around me, with his friends looking on. Hermione looks at us and shouts over to the Slytherin table.

"Zabini, Nott, you both owe me ten Galleons."

"Weasley, you owe me five Sickles." Pansy responds. Harry smiles, kisses me, and carries on feeding us both toast. I snuggle closer. I'm happy, content. It's all good.


End file.
